Eye for an Eye
by NoCleverSig
Summary: Druitt's past returns to haunt him and threatens to destroy everything he cares about, including Magnus. Stands alone or No. 10 in the "No Destination in Mind Series"
1. Chapter 1: Signs

**Summary: **Druitt's past returns to haunt him and threatens to destroy everything he cares about, including Magnus.  
**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of Sanctuary or its characters, I just play with them. My words, however, are my own.  
**Author's Note: **Stands alone or is the beginning of the 3rd Arc in the **"No Destination in Mind" **series, where Druitt is freed from his energy creature and living and working at the Sanctuary with Magnus. This one will be multi-chapter and dark. You've been warned….Thanks to MajorSam for being the best Beta in the world!

**Eye for an Eye  
**(Copyright 2010, NoCleverSig)

The boss had been wearing it for a week, and nobody said a word.

Predictably, Will was playing Mr. Tight Lips. Henry simply grinned. Biggie, of course, was unreadable. And John? No way was she asking him. He'd been nothing but smiles all week; well, up until a couple of days ago when he got all moody and quiet, which was just plain freaky.

Frak! What was it with guys? Whatever it was, it seemed to cross species. Looks like it was up to Kate Freelander to get to the bottom of this mystery. And since Magnus and she were spending some quality hours this morning with the Kerastat they'd picked up in Siberia...no time like the present!

"So boss, what's up with the bling?" Kate asked, eyeing the opal and diamond ring on Magnus' left hand.

Helen looked down and smiled, she couldn't help it. "A gift," she answered noncommittally.

"A gift, huh? Nice gift. Sure it doesn't mean anything more? Like, maybe some special, big deal occasion coming up that we should…say…be preparing for?" Kate nudged.

Helen laughed. "If you mean marriage, no, Kate. John and I are much too old for that." Magnus thought about stopping there, but decided to continue. "We're not getting married, but it does hold some significance for us, so, yes, it's special."

The boss was smiling, beaming actually. Kate couldn't help but smile back. Magnus was happy, and even though she and Johnny were, well, old, it was still cute. No, _sweet_, she mentally corrected herself. Boss didn't like _cute_.

"Can I see it?" Kate inquired, pointing to Magnus's hand.

Helen was flattered. "Of course," she answered, and held her hand out for Kate. Kate took it and looked at the ring, appropriately _ooohing_ and_ ahhing_. Magnus found herself thinking it rather nice to have another woman around just to be…female with on occasion.

"Johnny did good," Kate finally approved, giving Helen her hand back and a thumbs up sign.

Magnus agreed. "Yes. Yes, I rather think he did."

They went back to work observing the Kerastat, taking notes, working in silence.

"Kate," Helen said after awhile. "May I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"How are you and John getting along?"

Kate thought about it. "Good. Real good. We work well together."

"Any…change recently?" Helen went on hesitantly.

Kate paused. Johnny really had been all smiles after last Friday night when he and the boss went on their big date and the bling magically appeared on Magnus' finger. But a couple of days ago things changed. She chalked it up to maybe an argument between the two of them. Still, Magnus was acting pretty Magnusy; situation normal there. It was Johnny that was being weirdly quiet and all distracted like. He'd even made a mistake on a retrieval yesterday that could have gotten them both injured, maybe even killed, but no way was she going to tell the boss that.

"He's been acting a little quiet lately, you know, like he has something on his mind, but that's all." She didn't want to say too much. He was her partner, and she didn't want to rat him out or get in the middle of any weirdness between him and Magnus.

"I'm not trying to put you in the middle, Kate. I was just curious," Helen acknowledged.

Damn! The lady had done it again. She really _could_ read minds. Maybe it was some abnormal ability she wouldn't own up to.

"No problem. Everything's cool," Kate replied.

Magnus smiled at her, dropping the subject, and they returned to their work with the Kerastat.

* * *

She couldn't find John anywhere. Helen checked with Will, Henry, Big Guy, and Kate. He was just…gone. He didn't carry a cell phone, something she'd have to rectify soon despite his protests. Some things he was simply stubborn about, and for some reason the use of a cell phone was one of them. Yes, he could pop in and out at will, but sometimes a text message or a phone call was much simpler and far less jarring than a sudden materialization in the hallway.

Tonight was one of two nights a week when, if possible, they ate dinner together and not with the rest of the team. John hadn't shown. He was scheduled to help Henry all day in the computer lab, John being particularly skillful with weapons and Henry being particularly artful at building them, but Henry hadn't seen him. He'd also missed his weekly appointment with Will, asking if he could reschedule.

Helen was doing her best not to overreact, but she was starting to worry.

She shook her head, angry at herself. He was a grown man. He could take care of himself and had so for over a century without her help. She didn't own him, didn't possess him. It wasn't as though they were married. He could come and go as he pleased so long as the work got done.

_But it wasn't like him,_ she thought, and she found herself reacting exactly as she had when Ashley was alive, imagining the worst. He was much too courteous a man not to inform her of his whereabouts; not because he had to, but because it was the polite thing to do. Will had sensed her concern when she opted to join them for dinner and asked if she wanted the team to go search for him, but she'd shaken her head and said she was sure he'd be back soon. In truth, she wasn't sure of anything. He hadn't done this to her before. Not since…well not for a very long time.

Instead she walled herself off in her office, surrounding herself with work, trying not to fret or at least not to let on how anxious she really was to the others. Anything to take her mind off of him. She looked at the time on the monitor: 12:15. _Damnit, John! Where are you?_ She thought, and shut the computer down, no longer able to focus, panic starting to well up inside her. She couldn't sit around any longer doing nothing. She'd get her things and go out. If he was injured, if he was hurt…

Just then he materialized in front of her, forcing her to take a swift step back. He was dressed in his usual field attire: leather pants, dark shirt, and black duster. He looked haggard, worn.

"John!" she exclaimed. "Are you alright? Where the bloody hell have you been?"

He looked at her, his eyes strangely distant. "Out."

_Out?_ Was that all he had to say?

"Out where?" she asked.

His face grew angry, his breathing heavy. "Do I have to account for my every movement to you, Helen? That ring on your finger," he said, pointing at her hand, "does _not_ mean that we are married!" he shouted.

If he wanted to stun her, shock her, hurt her, he'd succeeded.

"You're correct. We are not," she responded coolly after a moment, regaining her composure. "If you'd like to sleep elsewhere tonight, John, please do so. I have plenty of guest rooms available…." She started to walk away, get out of the room before she said something she would most certainly regret. But he grabbed a hold of her arm as she moved past him and spun her around, yanking her toward him, nearly tripping her as he pulled her into his arms. He held onto her arms like a vise, gazing at her intently.

"John," she looked at him, her arms pinned to her sides, nerves beginning to build in her stomach. What the hell was wrong with him? He could be an incredibly gentle man. He could also be an incredibly strong and brutal one. "You're hurting me," she said softly, trying to get through to him.

He didn't move. He simply continued to hold her, staring at her, his breathing ragged. "Helen …" he finally moaned, his voice breaking. He pulled her toward him and crushed his mouth against hers.

She tried to break free, tried to move out of his grasp, but he held on to her too hard, too fiercely. He deepened the kiss, ravaging her mouth, forcing her to open to him. When she did, she was lost. Her tongue tangling with his, her teeth scraping his lips, his cheeks, his mouth.

He picked her up, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist and roughly dropped her on her desk, casting papers, books, notes, even her laptop aside with one swipe of his arm, never breaking the hold he had on her mouth. He hiked her dress up over her thighs, feeling the thigh-high stockings that ended there, running his calloused hands to and fro from her legs to her hips, making her shudder with anticipation. Once he had her where he wanted her, he reached up and ripped her panties off, throwing them aside and dropping to his knees to lick her.

_Ohmygod! _Magnus thought, and didn't think anything else.

His tongue, his lips, his mouth worked on her. Her hands kneaded his shoulders, wrapped around his head, desperately trying to hold on, to balance herself. He was sucking her, licking her, plunging into her with his tongue, his hot breath washing over her. Pulling on her, biting her, teasing her. She was on the verge, about to come...so fast, too fast.

Suddenly she rocked and lights burst before her eyes. She came so hard, so quick she couldn't breathe. John gave her no time to recover, standing up and thoroughly kissing her while her thighs still shook and quivered. She could taste herself on his lips, in his mouth. She fleetingly thought of the door to her office…it was open. But at the moment she didn't care.

He moved his hands to her back and pulled down the zipper, yanking her dress off her shoulders, deftly undoing her bra. When her breasts were free, he moved down to suckle them, one then another, back and forth, building her to climax once again though her head still swam from the first. He undid his own zipper, pulled down his pants, grabbed her by the hips, and drove into her, hard. She gasped, throwing her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. He wrapped his arms around her waist, her back, and pounded into her, his face on her neck, panting, moaning, growling. The rhythm was steady at first, but grew stronger, harder, faster. She could barely keep up, could only cling to him, doing her best not to let go, not let it stop, not let it end.

He drove hard inside her, so hard she could feel him pounding against her uterus, adding exquisite pain to the pleasure. She wanted to scream but muffled herself in his shoulder, biting him as she came and he came along with her, spilling himself into her, squeezing her so tight there was no room for even a breath between them.

She sat weakly on her desk, legs wrapped around his waist, he standing in front of her, head limp on her shoulder, both of them breathing so hard, so heavy, they couldn't speak.

"John," Helen finally said, finding her voice. "What the _hell_ was that?"

She could feel him chuckle into her neck, his breath warm, his moist lips against her skin.

"That, my love, was the most incredible sex I think I've ever had."

She found herself grinning as well, and kissed his cheek. They stayed there for a time, holding on to one another, trying to breath, to regain their equilibrium.

"John," she eventually asked quietly. "Where were you?"

He pulled back and looked at her, running his fingers through her long, dark locks. "I had…matters to attend to my dear. I should have called, I'm sorry. It simply took longer than I expected."

He was lying to her, she knew it. Hiding something. But at that moment, with her dress hiked up to her waist and his hardness only just going soft inside her, she found she didn't care.

* * *

He'd scared Druitt. Good. He deserved to be scared. Deserved to sweat. Deserved far more than that. And he would see to it that the bastard got everything that was coming to him.

His little note had sent the demon into a tailspin. He smiled at the recollection. He could still see the prick's face as he picked it up from the doorstep of that fortress he lived in with that dark-haired whore of his.

Druitt didn't think anyone knew, that anyone would find out, but he knew. He knew and had hunted him down. And not only had he found him, he found something he cared about; that bitch he lived with. A woman that would actually sleep with a monster like Druitt had to be a monster herself. Two for the price of one. Sweet.

Scaring Druitt had been easy. Hurting him would be amusing. Killing them both would be…fun.

_(to be continued)_


	2. Chapter 2: Revelations

**Disclaimer: **Sanctuary and its characters do not belong to me, I just play with them. My words, however, are my own.  
**Author's Note: **This chapter is a transitional chapter to…gulp…whump! Wish me luck! Thanks go once again to MajorSam for her fine Beta and for the use of the letters, WF and C.

**Eye for an Eye  
****Chapter 2: Revelations  
**(Copyright 2010, NoCleverSig)

He'd been lying to her for days and she knew it.

Since the night when John and she had…in her office…on her…God! She shuddered thinking about it, not only because of their complete lack of decorum, but because it was some of the most amazing sex she'd ever had. And Helen Magnus had lived a very long time.

The point was, since that evening three nights ago, John was in one of two states: either completely withdrawn, utterly sullen, gone for hours at a time, or shadowing her every move and eventually, when she'd call him on it, tearing her clothes off, the sex frantic and desperate.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the sex. She did. But he wasn't right, and it reminded her too much of the dark days of Whitechapel when John's mood would swing wildly and their lovemaking, while astounding, was a forewarning of the shadows that lay ahead.

She watched him now, as discreetly as possible, he sitting on the arm of the sofa in her office, Kate seated at his side. Henry was next to her, and Will sat in a chair by Helen's desk. She wasn't the only one who'd noticed the change in John. Everyone had. Kate, being his partner, said nothing. Henry, who had started teaching John the ins and outs of Sanctuary technology, looked perpetually concerned. Will was the only one who had confronted her.

"There's something going on with him, Magnus," he'd said.

"I know, Will, but he won't talk to me. I've tried. I had hoped he'd confide in you."

Will shook his head. "No, he hasn't." He hesitated. "Magnus, based on what I know of John, the way he reacts…. If I had to guess, I'd say he was scared."

Helen narrowed her eyes. "Scared of what?"

"I have no idea. You've got to speak to him. He's not opening up to me. Frankly, I'm concerned that it's impairing his judgment, putting missions, people at risk."

Helen's eyes widened, alarmed. John acting strangely toward her was one thing. John jeopardizing the work and the safety of her team was another. "Has Kate told you something?" she quizzed him.

"I'm just concerned, that's all. For him and for us," Will answered cryptically.

She nodded. "I'll talk to him today. We'll get this sorted."

The staff meeting was nearly over. Just one more bit of business to attend to.

"Kate? John? Tomorrow I need you to travel to the London Sanctuary and assist Declan with a retrieval in the UK. I'll get you more information in the morning once he sends over the files."

"Roger that," Kate nodded.

"Will? I need you to accompany me to Old City. There's been a report of what may be an abnormal in the warehouse district. You and I need to…"

"_No!" _

The entire teamed jumped, shocked by John's outburst. He had risen from the edge of the sofa and stood perfectly straight, fists clenched, staring at Helen who leaned against the front of her desk with her arms crossed.

"Excuse me?" Helen responded calmly, trying to maintain a pretense of professionalism between them.

"I don't want you leaving the Sanctuary without me, Helen." His voice was loud and firm and extremely out of character. He never publicly questioned her when it came to Sanctuary business. A private discussion might occur between them later, perhaps, but never in front of her team. It was an understanding they shared.

"John," Magnus worked to keep her voice level. "You and Kate need to go to the UK. This is a simple mission that Will and I can handle quite easily on our…"

"_No!"_ He shouted it this time.

The room fell silent. Will shot Magnus a furtive glance. She acknowledged it, nodding at him almost imperceptibly, and swallowed.

"Right….Everyone, if you'll please excuse us for a moment."

Kate, Henry, and Will filed out of the room. Will was the last to leave, giving Magnus a look that told her he'd be close if she needed him, and shut the door.

Helen pushed herself off the desk and walked straight toward John, hands on her hips, the anger mounting inside her.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

John took a deep breath, his voice low. "I don't want you leaving the Sanctuary without me, Helen. It's not…." He stopped.

"It's not what?" Magnus demanded.

He stood silent for a moment, searching her eyes, his expression anguished. After a moment he reached out and laid his palms on the side of her face, crushing his lips to hers. Helen put her hands on his chest and shoved him hard, throwing him off balance, making him stumble and land on the sofa behind him.

"Stop it!" she yelled. "Just stop it! I want an explanation and I want it now!"

John rose slowly, glaring at her. She unconsciously took a step back. In that moment he looked so much like Jack, she had to close her eyes to wipe the vision from her mind. _Whitechapel…the glint of a blade in the gaslight…blood gushing from a woman's freshly slit neck…a gunshot. _

"John…" she pleaded, opening them again.

His eyes cleared. He took a step toward her then wrapped his arms around her so tightly she could barely breathe. He was shaking.

_Dear God!_ _What is happening?_ Helen thought. She moved her arms instinctively to circle his waist, to comfort him. "John, please, let me help you…"

"You can't, love. Not with this," he murmured, caressing her hair in long, rhythmic strokes.

"John, if the Sanctuary, if my team is at risk... If you're at risk, I need to know," she whispered, her breath against his neck.

She could feel him shaking his head. "I just need a little more time, Helen. Please...," he begged.

"Time for what?" she questioned, confused, pulling away to look at him.

"To deal with this. Just a little more time. Until then, promise me you'll stay here. Don't go anywhere without me."

"John…."

"Please!" he pleaded.

His intensity shocked her. "All right. You have today, but tonight we talk."

He stroked her hair once more, smiled, and stepped away from her.

"I'll be back soon."

"John!" she shouted, but he was already gone.

* * *

He returned hours later. She was asleep. A rarity for her, John thought. She lay in the dark of their bed, the covers surrounding her, a pillow gripped between her arms where he would normally lay, the dim light from the window casting the room in shadow.

John Druitt was scared; frightened beyond measure. Not for himself, his life be damned! Rather he feared for everything he had regained after so long in limbo, and mostly he feared for her.

She was everything.

For so long he had been the hunter, now he was the hunted. Although he had attempted to turn the tables these last few days, to reestablish his role as predator, he'd discovered…nothing.

He understood she was worried, confused. He knew he would have to tell her… eventually. But not yet. Not now. He had revealed so many of his secrets to her on that cold morning in Hyde Park, a few months ago now, and she had accepted him regardless. He had confessed his guilt then, purged himself, he believed. But he'd been wrong. His crimes were too deep, too damning.

They would follow him to the grave and no doubt beyond.

He thought about leaving. If he left, would the evil chase after him and withdraw from her and his home? If he was sure it would, he would go, no matter the pain. And there would be pain...eternally. But he was uncertain, so he remained: too scared to stay, too frightened to flee.

In limbo once again.

He removed his duster, folded it, and laid it over the chair of the desk. Then he unbuttoned his shirt, removed his shoes, his socks, his pants, and slipped into bed beside her, cradling her in his arms. She moved against him instinctively, sighing in her sleep. Fear of losing her coupled with desire to have her overtook him, and he tightened his hold on her waist, feeling her warmth, her curves, through her thin gown.

Did she understand how much he loved her? Did she comprehend what would happen to him if she was lost?

He'd been trying to tell her for days. Loving her was the only way he knew to ease the fear that shot like ice through his veins.

He nuzzled her hair with his face, breathing deep the smell of her, lavender and spice. She was so beautiful. He wanted, needed her so badly.

He reached his hand down to pull her gown up, slowly sliding it above her thighs, her waist, trying not to wake her. She stirred in his arms but remained blissfully asleep, her breathing relaxed and heavy. He reached down and started stroking her, gently, softly. She shifted against him, her hips unconsciously beginning to move in rhythm to his fingers, his hand descending between her wet, warm folds. He could feel her heat, hear her breathing deepen in slumber.

His own breathing quickened, his heart raced, and he found himself erect and ready. He shifted position and slid into her gently from behind, grasping her tight about the waist. She moaned, the sound of her response to his entry making him grow even larger and hungrier for her. He changed angles behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders so he could drive deeper into her, slowly, methodically.

She moved with him, caught in that dreamlike state between sleep and waking. He removed one hand from her shoulder and reached down between her legs again to stroke her in perfect time with his rhythm. She lifted her leg instinctively to grant him access and answered him in kind, pushing back against him, their bodies in perfect unison. "John…" she murmured, slowly waking now, but saying nothing more.

After a time he gripped her shoulder tighter, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged, his pace building, his body tightening. He could feel her clenching around him as well and he stroked her faster, harder, thrusting into her over and over.

He could feel her tremble, hear her cry out as she came, feel her shudder against him. He reached his arm back up to her other shoulder, holding fast to her with both hands, shifting again so he could drive even deeper into her from behind, pounding against her, spilling himself inside her, tumbling after her, crying out as well, dropping his face into her hair.

When they were done and able to move, he pulled her back against his chest, cradling her once more. Helen reached up and held his hand, grasping it tightly to her stomach. She should get up, clean up, but something inside her told her that this moment should be savored. So she remained there, feeling him still hard inside her, his warmth spilling out from within her.

They stayed that way for a long time, neither saying anything to the other, simply holding on. John grasped her waist and she clung to his hand.

"John, what was in the envelope?" Helen finally whispered.

She felt him freeze beside her. He hadn't expected the question.

She turned to face him, forcing him to pull out of her. "John?"

"I assume Mr. Foss told you?" he asked plainly, no accusation in his voice.

Helen nodded. "He was worried, John. We all are. After this morning…yesterday morning," she corrected herself, noting the time. "He came to see me. He said you asked him to scan a large manila envelope for fingerprints but he didn't find any."

"No, he did not." John said.

"What was inside? What's going on, John? Please…."

Druitt lay on his side gazing at her. He closed his eyes and nodded, moved the covers back, and stood up, his tall, naked frame in shadow as he strode across the room. He moved to his coat and pulled something out of his inner pocket, returned to the bed, and handed it to her.

Helen sat up and turned on her bedside lamp. It was plain piece of paper, the letters cut out of headlines from a newspaper like some Hollywood crime drama.

**I ****KNOW ****WHO ****YOU****ARE.**

**I**** KNOW ****WHAT**** YOU'VE **_**DONE.**_

**AND**** YOU ****WILL**** PAY.**

The blood rushed to Helen's head; her heart pounded. Someone knew John Druitt was a murderer, perhaps even the Ripper.

"John, when did you get this?" she asked, trying to keep the trembling out of her voice, her hands.

He swallowed, avoiding her eyes, tucking the paper back into the envelope it came in, only his name, "JOHN DRUITT," addressed in all capital letters on the front.

"Three, four days ago…the morning of the night we spent in your office."

She nodded. It made sense now, his behavior. "That's where you've been. Searching for whoever sent this."

"Without success, unfortunately," he sighed.

"How was it delivered?" Helen asked.

"Left outside on the door step. Your manservant found it and gave it to me."

Helen sighed. Not only did the person know who John was, what crimes he'd committed, he knew where he lived, which meant he most likely knew about the Sanctuary and their work. They were all in jeopardy. That's what had scared John. That's what made him react the way he had.

"Was there anything else inside the envelope, John? Do you have any clue who it could be?" She was desperate for anything.

He looked away from her. "No," he shook his head, lying.

Helen nodded. "I'll have Henry increase security. In the meantime, we'll work with Will. He has experience with these things. His profiling abilities are astounding."

John gave her a soft smile for reassurance.

"It'll be alright." Helen said, placing a hand on his cheek. He laid his hand atop hers, turned his head into her palm and kissed it.

This time they were both pretending.

* * *

She did as Druitt asked and stayed in the Sanctuary the next day sending Kate and John to the UK and Will and Henry out to search for the abnormal in the Warehouse district. She assumed whoever it was threatening him was here in the city. John being in the UK was probably safer than remaining at home. As far as home was concerned, Henry had ramped up security, and the Big Guy was on high alert. There was little more they could do.

John and Will had begun work on a list of possible suspects, people connected to crimes John had committed who might still be alive, but the list was short. Almost all of John's victims, aside from the Cabal, had been women, most of them prostitutes with no known family or close friends. He'd been careful to kill them free of witnesses. In other words, they had no clue.

Today she had decided to spend her time researching, seeing if she could dig up something, anything on who his stalker might be. She had only one meeting to take away time from the search. Miguel de Garavilla was a financier who had made his money in pharmaceuticals. Magnus had met him at a fundraising party last year, and he had taken an interest in her work. He had contributed, generously, to her foundation ever since. The last time he'd been to the Sanctuary was three months ago for a thank you party she'd thrown for key contributors. He was in town for the week and asked if he could have a tour of her latest "acquisitions." It was a term she disdained, but she'd gained a certain tolerance for such insensitive slips from donors choosing to educate rather than irritate her financial backers.

An hour later, having made no headway in her research, a knock came at her door.

"Come," she said.

The Big Guy stood in the doorway. "Mr. de Garavilla is here to see you."

Miguel walked in; a large, handsome man in his late 40s, dressed in an Armani suit, with jet black hair and beard. Helen rose from her desk and walked around to greet him. "Miguel," she smiled, shaking his hand. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Helen, you look radiant as ever!"

"Thank you. Please have a seat," she gestured to the couch.

"How have you been? How is your family?" Magnus asked.

"Fine. Everyone is well," he said with a slight South American accent. "And you? The Sanctuary is thriving, yes?"

She nodded. "Yes. We've made some interesting discoveries as of late."

"So you've said in your reports. I am anxious to see them," he replied.

"Well," she said standing, pointing at the door, "No time like the present. I'm anxious to give you the tour." Truth be told, she was anxious to get rid of him and get back to solving the more important problem at hand.

"Thank you, Helen. I know how busy you are. I appreciate you fitting me into your busy schedule," Garavilla smiled.

"Of course, anytime, you know that."

He nodded.

"Shall we?" she suggested.

"Of course, ladies first," he said, bowing and gesturing for her to take the lead.

When she did, Garavilla reached into his inner coat pocket, pulled out a syringe, and plunged it into Helen's neck. Within seconds Magnus collapsed onto the floor. Quickly, he shut the door and pulled Helen over to her desk. He reached into his inner pocket again and pulled out another, larger syringe, tucking it under his shirt sleeve. He ran to the door and opened it.

"Help! Anyone!" he yelled. "Dr. Magnus! She's collapsed!"

The Big Guy came running down the hall and flew into Magnus' office. He stopped dead in his tracks staring at Helen's lifeless form on the floor.

"I don't know what happened! She got up and then she simply collapsed. Shall I call an ambulance? What can we do?" Garavilla asked, trying to look concerned while keeping the smirk off his face.

Big Guy looked at him and then back at Magnus and ran to her side, kneeling down beside her. Garavilla pulled the syringe out from his shirt sleeve and plunged it into the hairy beast's shoulder. Biggie turned, throwing his arm across Garavilla's chest, sending him crashing into the side table and knocking him against the far wall. Garavilla lay there on the ground, dizzy, staring up as the giant Sasquatch bore down on him, his eyes full of rage, when suddenly Big Guy faltered, took another hesitant step forward, then crashed onto the ground, unconscious.

Garavilla smiled. "I sized you up pretty good, eh?" he laughed.

He got up, dusted himself off, and walked over to Magnus, towering above her. He searched through his pocket and took out a phone. "Everything's secure. Time for my guest to go for a ride."

He looked at Magnus laying there unconscious. "Stupid cunt," he growled, and kicked her hard in the ribs, her dead weight taking the force of the blow.

"Time for us to play," he grinned.

_(to be continued) _


	3. Chapter 3: Confessions

**Disclaimer:** Sanctuary and its characters do not belong to me, I just play with them. My words, however, are my own.  
**Author's Note: **Oy! I've never written this kind of fic before, so this is a stretch for me. Please let me know how I did! Thanks to MajorSam for her beta and her words of encouragement.

**Eye for an Eye  
**Chapter 3: Confessions  
(Copyright 2010, NoCleverSig)

Magnus awoke in pitch black, her head throbbing, her side splitting with pain.

She was strapped to a metal chair, her arms locked to the sides with steel clasps that dug into her wrists. Her legs were bound with zip ties that sliced across her ankles, and her stomach and chest were lashed with ropes and leather belts, duct tape across her mouth. She tried to move, tried to rock the chair sideways to see if she could tip it over, free herself, but it resulted in only more pain. The chair was bolted to the floor. She was going nowhere.

Helen closed her eyes, mentally regrouping, centering herself, trying to remember what had happened.

She was in the Sanctuary. She'd been researching who might be threatening John, who might have known him as a killer. She'd met with Miguel de Garavilla, financier and Sanctuary Foundation donor. He was in town and had asked for a tour of the facility. They were walking out the door when….

What had happened? The last thing she recalled was a sharp sting in her neck then blackness. She had no idea who had attacked her, but based on her lack of recollection and the pounding headache, she was fairly sure it had been a hypodermic needle with a powerful sedative. Was Miguel all right? Had he been attacked too? Was he here?

From what she could tell, which was little in the inky blackness, no one was with her. The room was quiet and dark, so much so she couldn't determine how large or how small the enclosure was.

Suddenly a white light blazed above, blinding her. She instinctively winced, shut her eyes tight, and turned her head to one side. The light was hot, and within minutes she was starting to sweat. She heard a door open but saw nothing in the brightness. There were voices, more than one she noted, trying to mentally record any clues that might help free her.

"Helen, you look lovely as usual." It was a soft, South American accent.

She turned her head and blinked, her eyes adjusting to the harsh glow. She looked up to see Miguel unharmed, coat off, white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, black bag in his hands, eyes black. He crouched down beside her and tore the duct tape from her mouth.

"What the hell is this Miguel? What do you want from me?" she spat at him, realizing now who her attacker had been.

"Nothing, mija, because you are nothing." He traced his fingers down her cheek. Magnus turned away, but he grabbed her chin roughly and twisted her head to face him.

"You will look at me when I talk to you bitch!"

He held her there, his breath hot against her mouth.

"You're going to put on a little show for your…." He glanced down at her hand noting the ring she wore there. "Boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband? Whatever that monster Druitt is to you."

_John? No… _Magnus thought. _Miguel was John's stalker?_

"I've been following him for years, mija, watching, learning, waiting for just the right moment to make him pay. Then I found you and your Sanctuary." He smiled. "And now I know the perfect way to make him pay, yes?"

"Miguel, listen to me," Magnus tried to reason with him. "Whatever John did or has done… it wasn't him. He was controlled by a creature, an abnormal like those we care for at the Sanctuary. You've been there, you've seen our work, you know…."

He stopped her with a brutal backhand across the face, hitting her so hard her head snapped and blood seeped into her mouth.

"Damn it!" he swore angrily. "Look at what you made me do you whore!" He lifted a roll of tape from the bag, tore off a strip, and placed it roughly over her mouth, forcing Magnus to swallow the blood trickling from the gaping cut inside her cheek.

"You shut up until I'm ready for you to talk, do you hear me puta!" he said jabbing a finger into her face. Then he smiled, regaining his equilibrium. "We'll be ready soon. Then your boyfriend will see, all of your friends will see, what he is and what he's done." He leaned in close and whispered, his hot breath blowing into her hair, her ear.

"And then they can watch as I do the same to you, mija."

* * *

"What happened? Where is she?" John Druitt stormed into the Sanctuary control room, his long black coat billowing behind him, Kate Freelander hot on his heels.

Will, Henry, and Big Guy were already there, frantically working. Will had questioned Biggie, viewed the security tapes, and instructed Henry to begin searching for everything and anything he could find on Miguel de Garavilla, including property he might own in New or Old City as well as information on the van the camera caught pulling away from the scene. He rose to intercept John.

"Magnus was kidnapped. We know by whom, we know when, but we don't know where he's taken her. Henry is working on it." He knew John was out of his mind with worry, so was he if he were honest, but calm reason, as Magnus would say, was his ally. Being her protégé, he was in charge. He not only needed to maintain his composure, he needed to keep his team focused too.

"How did this happen! How did this bloody happen!" Druitt yelled at the top of his lungs. "Don't you people screen individuals who come here, or do you just let anyone who wants to waltz in off the street and kidnap your employer?"

Henry and Big Guy looked at him sheepishly.

Will saw the exchange and grabbed John by the arm, pulling him toward the far corner of the room. "You and I need to have a private chat."

Druitt yanked his limb out of Will's grasp, nearly knocking the younger man over. "Let go of me boy!" he shouted.

Druitt was taller than Will and intimidating as hell when angry, but if Will didn't get a grip on the situation now, things would get ugly fast.

"John, I know you're upset. We're all upset. But blame isn't going to find Magnus. She's gone, which means I'm in charge. I need you to shut up and listen to me! Got it?"

"You're in charge?" Druitt laughed.

Will nodded his head. "Yes I'm in charge. You may be her lover, but I'm her protégé, Druitt, and if Magnus were here, you'd know that's exactly what she'd say."

John swallowed, visibly steadying himself. After a moment, he took a deep breath. "Fine," he agreed grudgingly.

"Good. Now let's get organized." Will turned back to Henry and Big Guy who were working the computers. "Henry? Do we know anything more about Garavilla then we did when you first screened him?" Will looked back at Druitt. "We screen all Sanctuary Foundation donors before accepting contributions." Druitt nodded.

"Not yet, but I've just started digging. I'm working on it," Henry answered, his eyes red with worry.

"Great. Work fast." Henry nodded. Will looked up at Kate who stood anxiously nearby, hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

"Kate, I need you to go into the city and talk to your contacts. See if you can find anyone who might have heard anything about a plot to kidnap Magnus, someone new in town maybe."

"Got it," she snapped and started to walk away. John stopped her. "Let me go with you. It'll be faster. I can't…I can't just stay here."

Kate looked back at Will. The young man nodded. John grabbed Kate's arm preparing to teleport them away when the giant screens in the Sanctuary control room flickered on, stopping everyone dead in their tracks.

On the jumbo panels surrounding them was an image of Magnus, bolted and tied to a chair, a bright light illuminating her face. Her hair hung loosely over her eyes. Her mouth was taped shut. Her left cheek was swollen and bruised. Will's heart sunk. He looked over at John who stood there looking like he'd just been punched in the chest.

After a few seconds a voice came through the speakers, cold and angry.

"I'm looking for John Druitt. I have something for him."

Will turned to Henry. "Henry, find out where that signal's coming from…how it's getting into the Sanctuary system!"

"On it," Henry replied fingers flying across the computer console.

"If I don't hear from Druitt in 10 seconds, Dr. Magnus' pretty face won't be looking so pretty anymore, yes?" the voice threatened.

John turned to Will, desperate. "How do I talk to him?"

"Here," Henry said, pulling a chair out for Druitt and pointing him toward the mic.

"Try it now," Henry urged.

John looked up at the image of Helen, her cheek red and swollen, her hair limp with sweat, her mouth taped shut. _I'll kill him! I'll bloody KILL him!_

"This is John Druitt," he spoke into the mic, trying to keep his voice even through his rage.

Helen must have heard him because her eyes widened and she lifted her head.

"Mr. Druitt, so glad you could join us. I've been waiting a long time to meet you."

"If you want me then let her go. I'll meet you wherever you want right now!" John pleaded.

Will looked up to see Magnus quietly shake her head, _"No."_

"In good time, Mr. Druitt, in good time. Until then, I'd like to show you just a taste of the pain you've caused me and countless others. Are you ready for the show?"

Druitt shot Will a desperate look. Will turned to him. "Try to stall!" he started, but it was too late.

* * *

Miguel drove his fist hard into Magnus' stomach, making her lurch forward in pain, pulling against the ropes that bound her.

"Stop it!" she heard John shout over the speakers, but she knew Miguel had just gotten started. She looked up at him, trying to keep the tears out of her eyes, trying to breathe, the wind knocked out of her.

"I think it's time to remove this, mija, so your friends can enjoy this as much as we are," he smirked at her, ripping the tape from her mouth.

Magnus steeled herself, as much for John, Will, and the others who might be watching as she did for herself. "You bloody bastard!" she spat at him, blood trickling out of her mouth from the backhand to her face.

"I'm the bloody bastard?" he laughed. "Let me show you something, mija."

He took a stack of pictures out of his shirt pocket and held them up in front of Magnus one by one. They were pictures of women brutally murdered. Some with their throats slit, lying in pools of their own blood. Others with their abdomens cut open, organs missing, body cavities' gaping as they lay vacant on the street. Magnus closed her eyes.

"OPEN YOUR EYES PUTA!" Miguel raged at her and slapped her across the chin sending her head spinning to the side. She heard John cry out but couldn't make out the words.

She turned back and looked at the photos.

"Your boyfriend did this, mija!" Miguel growled through clenched teeth. "Tell me, what do you think of it?"

Magnus looked back at the photos, visions of Whitechapel coursing through her brain.

"It's reprehensible," she said softly.

"Say that again, mija?" Miguel urged, putting a hand to his ear mockingly as though he couldn't hear.

She looked up. "It's reprehensible," Helen repeated louder. "But it wasn't John. It was the creature inside him...If you'd only listen to me, Miguel."

"Shut up!" he screamed, and kicked her in the side with his boot, making her cry out in pain. She could hear John yelling, Will too. She bit back the urge to sob, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hurting John or Will by watching her suffer.

Miguel turned to the camera.

"See these pictures? Do you see them Druitt? This is your handiwork you fucking bastard!"

He held the pictures up to the camera one by one.

Henry, Will, and Kate stared at them, the images gruesome and brutal. John closed his eyes and breathed deep, his body shaking.

"She had nothing to do with this! I'm the one responsible! Take me! Let her go!" he screamed into the microphone.

Miguel laughed. "No, not yet…John."

He turned to Magnus and kicked her again in the ribs, this time on the other side. She heard a crack, and Helen tried to suck in the pain, biting her lip so hard she drew blood.

John jumped up in the Sanctuary control room, yelling at the computer console, begging him to stop.

"That's all for now, friends. Helen and I will be back later. Twenty, thirty minutes. If you don't want her to die, Druitt, you better be here when we return."

The monitors went black.

Will looked around him. John had his hands over his face, standing there, his head bowed. Henry was crying. Big Guy might have been crying too, he couldn't tell. And Kate's face was ashen. She looked at Will. "What do we do?"

Will took a deep breath. He needed to get them out of the room. They couldn't watch this…couldn't be expected to work, to think, to find her under these conditions. Not with Magnus being tortured in front of their eyes.

"Henry, you and Big Guy go down to the lab. Dig up everything you can on Garavilla and TRACK THAT SIGNAL! Do it now!"

Henry shook himself and stood up. "Right. Okay. Come on," he said to Biggie, grabbing his arm on the way out.

"Kate, I need you to shake down every contact you have. Find out who's new in town, who might be for hire to do…something like this," he said, glancing up at the screen. "He's not alone. He has help."

"On it," she said, running out the door.

"John…"

The two men were alone in the control room now, lover and protégé.

John took his hands from his face and looked at Will.

"I'll kill him," Druitt growled. "I'll rip him apart."

Will nodded. "We have to find him first. We have to keep him talking."

John flew over to Will, his body shaking with rage, his arms gesturing wildly. "Don't you see what he's doing to her!" he shouted, inches from Will's face.

"I do, he's torturing her, and he's doing it for your benefit. I need to know why," Will replied, his voice steady. "What haven't you told us, Druitt? What else was in that envelope he left for you?"

John stepped back, his breathing ragged. He hesitated a moment, then spoke. "Pictures," he said quietly, avoiding Will's eyes.

This time, Will stepped into Druitt's space, his voice low but controlled. "What kind of pictures?"

John looked back at him. "Helen…her face…what do you call it? Photoshopped onto other women…women I've killed."

Will drew in a deep breath. "And you didn't show us, tell us about this, why?" he asked, trying to contain his anger.

"I didn't want to scare her. But mostly, I didn't want her to see what I had done. Telling her was one thing. Showing her….That is something else," Druitt confessed.

Will wanted to punch Druitt, beat him senseless, tell him that withholding evidence like this might have just sentenced Magnus to death, but he refrained. It took all his self control to do so. Magnus might be his boss, his mentor, his friend, but she was John's lover. What was done was done, and there was little more pain Will could inflict on Druitt than he was already suffering.

"I need to see those pictures now!" Will demanded. Druitt nodded and vanished. Will looked back up at the monitors. "Hang on, Magnus. Just hang on," he said to no one but himself.

* * *

He'd broken her ribs, she was sure of it. His boots were steel-toed, she was sure of that too. What she wasn't sure of was whether he'd punctured a lung or if her breathing was simply hampered by the injuries. It hardly mattered, she thought. The worst, Helen knew, was yet to come.

He'd left her alone, the lights off. He'd told her he was broadcasting their "quality time" directly into the Sanctuary network. How, she had no idea. She only hoped Henry could find a way to trace it.

She had to stay strong. Had to swallow the pain, put her mind elsewhere. Whatever happened to her happened. She had no control over it. What she could control, however, was how she reacted to it. And if, as she suspected, John, Will, Henry, Big Guy and Kate were all watching, she'd be damned if she'd give Miguel the pleasure of hurting them any more than he already had.

The light came on again, making her wince even harder this time, the pain in her stomach, her face, her sides, shooting through her body, making her nauseous.

"Show time, mija."

She was getting sick of his word of endearment for her. She decided to turn the tables, talk to him. If she could keep him talking, he might stop hitting.

"What did he do to you Miguel? Tell me what John did to hurt you so badly."

He leaned into her, his black beard and moustache brushing against her face. She wanted to recoil from his touch, but resisted. "He took everything from me, and now I will take everything from him."

"What does that mean, everything? You have children, I know…."

"Stop right there, puta!" he spat at her. "You don't know ANYTHING about me!" he screamed at her. "If you think you can talk to me, befriend me, grieve with me, you're wrong. You are nothing to me but John Druitt's whore! I had planned on killing him, but this…. This is so much better."

He turned away from her and nodded to someone or something behind him. The camera? No doubt.

He turned back to face her. "Showtime again, mija. Smile pretty."

* * *

Will sat at the console looking over the pictures John had handed him. He was right. Magnus' face had been Photoshopped quite expertly over the faces of the dead women. The same ones, it seemed, Garavilla had shown them on the screen. He must have been tracking Druitt for years, chronicling his crimes, but why? And why wait until now to strike? Druitt had no recollection of ever meeting the man, except briefly at the fundraising party Helen had thrown several months ago. The name, the face, nothing about him was familiar.

Henry came running into the control room, Big Guy right beside him. "Got something!" he yelled holding a piece of paper in his hand.

Will and John both stood up to meet him.

"Garavilla's wife, Maria, was murdered eight years ago in Costa Rica. At the time, police attributed it to a busted kidnapping attempt," Henry said breathlessly. "But Garavilla didn't buy it. He said his wife had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He may have been right." He handed the photo he was carrying to Will.

Will looked at the image and sucked in a breath, passing it to John.

She was beautiful, with long black hair and dark brown eyes. Eyes that in the photo John held stared lifelessly back at him, her throat slit.

"Did you know her?" Will asked as John gazed at the image in front of him.

"Not well," Druitt responded softly, handing the photo back to Will. John turned, walked back to the console, and sat down, head hanging in his hands.

Will tapped his finger against the photograph and sighed. Henry swallowed, looked up at Big Guy and back at the young doctor. "What are you thinking, Will?" he asked quietly.

Will stared at them, his face fallen. "I'm thinking he wasn't after Druitt at all. He wants Magnus, and he's going to kill her."

The control room monitors flickered on.

* * *

"That's a lovely ring you're wearing mija. It looks old, is it?" Miguel smiled sinisterly at Helen.

She glanced down at the opal and diamond band on her left hand. The same ring John had given to her on their engagement more than a century ago, the same ring she wore now in commemoration of their loved renewed.

She looked up at Miguel, her expression even. "It's just a ring. One I've had for a very long time." That wasn't a lie.

"Really? I'd like a closer look."

Garavilla reached down and yanked it off of Magnus' finger, holding it up to the light, examining it.

"Very pretty….like your girlfriend, eh Druitt?" he turned to the camera. Then he slipped the ring on his pinky and sunk his fist into Helen's stomach, striking her, the power of his blow flowing straight into her broken rib cage. Broken bones ground against each other, forcing blood to bubble up her throat. She could barely suppress a scream, still crying out against her will. Once, twice, three times he struck her with a final blow across the face.

The diamonds of her ring caught the top of Helen's cheek bone, cutting her, ripping open her skin, sending blood coursing down her face and neck, joining the rich darkness that continued to dribble out of her mouth, down her chin.

"Oh my God!" Henry cried out looking up at the screen. John got up and shouted into the microphone. Will stood frozen, trying not to be sick. He turned back to Henry. "Find where that signal is coming from and find it now!" he demanded. Henry looked once more at the screen and nodded, flying out of the room, the Big Guy on his heels.

Magnus closed her eyes, trying to breathe, trying to separate herself from the pain searing through her. She needed to find a center, a memory, something to hold onto. She reached down deep and found what she was seeking…

_She was working in her office on a presentation for a conference in Vienna. Ashley was 10 months old and in the "cruising" stage of babyhood, crawling from the floor to the couch, pulling herself up, and scooting along the cushions. She watched as Ashley fell back down on her bum, crawled over to the coffee table, pulled herself back up again, and teetered along the edges. She'd be walking in no time, Helen thought. Big Guy had helped her remove all things sharp and pointy or breakable from her little girl's grasp. A sweep around the room revealed basically nothing under three feet except for books, which Ashley loved to pull down, plop in her lap, and pretend to "read," babbling away. _

_She worked on her PowerPoint keeping a close eye on her little one. Ashley had her father's eyes, a fact that made her happy and sad simultaneously. Her little girl also didn't like to stay still, a trait that could be attributed to either parent. She looked up and saw Ashley rounding the coffee table with gusto, gaining confidence with each step. Suddenly, the toddler let go, stood by herself, looked up at her mommy, took three steps forward, and fell down on her bum again in shock at her own success. Helen jumped up in surprise, went round her desk, and got down on her knees on the rug a few feet from her little girl, holding her arms out to her. _

"_C'mon, Ashley. You can do it, love. Try again. Walk to mommy!" Ashley started to crawl then stopped and grabbed the couch to pull herself up. Hesitantly, she let go, wobbling as she stood, looking at her mommy, and took four tentative steps toward her, falling into Helen's outstretched arms. She pulled her daughter into a tight embrace, swinging her back and forth saying "Yay! You did it! You walked, Ashley! You walked!" Ashley knew she had done something good and mommy was happy._

_Mommy was very happy._

Helen stayed lost in that memory as Miguel returned the ring to her finger, removed a hammer from his black bag, held it up, and brought it crashing down on her hand.

Magnus' blood-curdling scream reverberated in the Sanctuary control room as the monitors went dead.

* * *

"ARRGGGGGHHHHHH!"

Druitt rose yelling from his chair, picked the stool up and threw it across the control room. He was headed toward the monitors when Will ran up and grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms back. Druitt turned and tossed the younger man to the floor, kicking him with his foot, but Will caught it and twisted Druitt's ankle, sending him crashing to the ground with him. John lunged at him again putting his knee into the younger man's chest pinning him to the ground, locking Will's arms above his head.

"Is this helping?" Will croaked out as Druitt loomed over him, his eyes wild and full of rage. "Is this going to save her?" Will fleetingly wondered how many people had looked into this same face before taking their last breath.

John froze, let go of Will's arms, and sat back on the floor, his head in his hands, sobbing. "He's killing her!"

Will had worked with John for months on the repercussions of his time as "Jack," but before this day, he'd never seen him cry.

At that moment Kate ran in, breathless. "I've got something!" she exclaimed, staring at John and Will on the floor, the stool tossed to the ground on the other side of the room. "What's happening?" she stopped, perplexed.

Will looked up and shook his head. "We need to find Magnus, Kate. Now! We're running out of time!"

Kate nodded. "I've got a lead!"

John and Will jumped up. Kate took one look at John's face and asked, "What's wrong?"

"No time, Kate," Will responded. "What do you have?"

"Two new guys in town were drinking down at the warehouse district. My source said they were cartel goons, hit men, brought in by someone very rich to help with a job. Don't know exactly where it was going to go down, but they were pretty sure it was in the district."

Will nodded. "At least that narrows it."

"Should we start searching?" John asked him.

"No need," Henry said running into the room with Biggie, tablet in hand. "I found it. We got 'em."

* * *

They materialized in an empty three-story building, Kate taking point, John and Will following behind. John teleported to the top floor, gun drawn, checking room by room but found nothing. He moved to the second floor. Empty. By time he rejoined Will and Kate on the first floor, they had cleared the area. All that was left was the basement.

They walked cautiously down the stairs, Kate still in the lead, a closed door at the bottom. She turned the handle gently, but it was locked. Will nodded to John, and Druitt disappeared. Kate shot the lock and kicked the door open.

She rolled into the room as guns blazed, peppering the wall behind her. Kate looked up to see John lift a man from behind a computer console, twist his head, and drop him to the floor. John teleported away just seconds before another man, crouched behind the consoles, began shooting. Kate shot back, drawing his fire. She turned to Will who waited behind the open door. "Go! Go! Go!" she shouted.

Will ran to the door on the far side of the room and flung it open. John was already inside, motionless.

In front of them was Magnus, still bound to the chair, blood covering her face and hand. Miguel de Garavilla stood behind her, one hand roughly grasping her chin, the second pressing a knife to her throat.

"I wondered how long it would take you to find me. I'm so glad you could join us for the final performance of your cunt's little show," he laughed, scraping the blade against Helen's neck, drawing blood.

"Stop it, Miguel!" Will shouted. "You don't need to do this! She hasn't done anything to you!"

"She makes that monster happy, doesn't she?" Garavilla shouted, eyeing Druitt. "Like Maria made me happy! And he took her from me! He took her!"

The blade was pushing against Magnus' neck. All it would take was one slice, one quick movement of his hand and she'd be dead. He had to keep Garavilla talking. He had to make him drop the blade just long enough to give John a chance to teleport behind him. Will thought back to when he'd met Miguel at the party and remembered something he'd seen...hand gestures.

"She was beautiful, your wife," Will said.

Garavilla squinted his eyes. "How do you know?" he hissed.

"I saw a picture of her. Long dark hair, dark eyes. Beautiful."

"Yes, she was," Garavilla replied, his voice hoarse.

"And your children, you have two, don't you? Two boys, isn't it?" Will asked.

"No, no…I have a boy and a girl!" As he said, 'girl', Garavilla, moved the knife away from Magnus' throat gesturing with his hand, as Will had hoped he would. John saw it and in a flash vanished, rematerializing behind Garavilla, grabbing his arm and stabbing him in the back with a blade.

Will rushed toward Magnus, working to set her free as the two men struggled behind her.

"Magnus!"

She was drifting in and out of consciousness, the left side of her face, where Garavilla had repeatedly hit her, covered in blood that dripped down, staining her shirt. The bones in her left hand, around where he had smashed her ring, sticking out of the skin. Will drew a deep breath, trying to keep from heaving.

"It's okay," he told her, steadying his voice, working to set her free. "I've got you. It's okay."

Magnus opened her bloodshot eyes. "Will?" she asked hazily. He nodded. Tears streamed involuntarily from her as the shock caused by the hammer started wearing off, but she still fought for control. A single, strangled sob wracked her body before Will enveloped her in his arms. He held her as gently as he could, rocking her.

John Druitt had finished the kill, slicing Garavilla's throat so long and so deep his head barely hung to his body. He looked back at Helen, his hands drenched in blood, as Will held her, softly soothing her broken body. A quote from Shakespeare came unbidden to his mind.

_"Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red"_

His hands would never be clean.

_(One more chapter to go… "Endings")_


	4. Chapter 4: Endings

**Disclaimer:** Sanctuary and its characters do not belong to me, I just play with them. My words, however, are my own.  
**Author's Note**: Angst ahoy! Don't kill me! Remember, "forever" is relative ;) Thanks to MajorSam for her beta.

**Eye for an Eye  
**Chapter 4: Endings  
(Copyright 2010, NoCleverSig)

The blows to Helen's ribs had caused fractures, bruises, but hadn't punctured her lungs. The hit to her face with the ring required stitches, but was so expertly mended by her friend and colleague Dr. Padma Shiriz that the scarring promised to be minimal. The surgery to her hand was another matter.

Magnus' left ring finger had been crushed as had some of the bones in her hand. Surgery took hours. Healing and therapy would take months.

John Druitt waited throughout it all.

He lingered outside the operating room, stayed with her during recovery, and remained with Helen throughout the long days and nights that followed in the infirmary. Later, when she was released and began therapy on her hand, he went with her, learning the exercises too so he could help her perform them properly at night.

There was little to do for the ribs except to let them heal with time and to endure the pain of the process. But Helen's movements were ginger, and John was there to help her get up, get dressed, fix her hair, take her to the toilet, whatever it was she needed.

Weeks followed, and he remained. His actions stemmed from love, but Helen also knew they emanated from guilt. It was a guilt she believed was unfounded, but one he wouldn't let go, wouldn't discuss with her. Not yet.

Since the kidnapping, they hadn't been intimate. Helen wasn't physically able to do so without intense pain. John didn't push. He simply lay by her side and held her as gently as possible.

Mostly they were silent, lost in their own solitary thoughts. Together, but apart, and the fact that they were so close but so far away from one another frightened her.

She had talked to Will about what had happened, extensively, but not to John. Tomorrow she would go back to her responsibilities as head of the Sanctuary network. She was still off the mission list, would be for several months to make sure she healed properly, but she was ready to resume her duties, her life, and to move on.

John, however, was another matter.

He'd been unusually quiet all day. Helen assumed he was upset with her returning to her job so quickly, but if he was, he didn't say so outright.

They sat in the room they'd shared for months eating dinner together in silence, neither one saying a word to the other. Finally, when she couldn't stand it any longer, Magnus broke the wall that had been growing steadily between them brick by brick by brick.

"John, this wasn't your fault," she stated simply.

He put down his fork and stared at her, as though he was seeing her for the first time.

"Helen, how could it not be?" he answered softly.

She didn't have an answer for him. In a way, he was right.

She started to respond when he stood up, walked over to her vanity, and picked up the engagement ring that Garavilla had taken off her hand and used to hit her, crushed against her finger. The sight of it caused her to tremble, a reaction that made her extraordinarily sad.

John returned to his seat and held it between them, gazing at it. The opal had been destroyed when Garavilla had struck it with the hammer. Several diamonds had fallen out from their settings, lost somewhere on the floor of that horrible room. The band had been cut to remove it from her hand so they could perform surgery. Since then she'd left it on her vanity, unsure what to do with it.

John held it up and stared. "It's been destroyed, hasn't it?"

Magnus looked at him and tilted her head, unsure whether he was talking about the ring or them.

"It's been crushed, brutalized, but it's still here, John. It can be repaired. And if not, it's only a ring. We can get another."

He looked up at her. "Can we?"

"Yes," she nodded.

They ate the rest of their dinner in silence.

* * *

That night John held her tighter than usual. So tight it hurt, but Helen didn't complain. The last time they had made love was the night before the kidnapping. She'd been asleep and he had slipped into the bed and into her and it had been a dreamlike, sensual experience. At the time, she felt the need to savor it, to remember it, to acknowledge that it was somehow extraordinarily important. Tonight she felt a similar need. To hold and be held so tightly, the pain was secondary.

They didn't talk, just clung to one another. As she drifted to sleep, John murmured something in her ear, but she couldn't make out the words.

In the morning, when she awoke, the sheets beside her were cold.

She usually woke up first, watching him sleep. Early mornings were when he slept the deepest, tossing and turning throughout the night keeping them both awake. There had been no such turbulence last night. Last night had been peaceful.

She pulled herself up and onto the pillows gingerly, her sides still incredibly sore. She looked around their room. Something was off. It was quiet. Empty. His jacket, which he always laid neatly over the chair of the desk, was gone. The closet door was open. Helen swung her legs over the bed carefully, balanced herself, and got up, walking slowly to their wardrobe. She turned on the light, and her heart pounded. Her clothes were there. The space she'd made so many months ago for his, however, was empty. Her heart sunk.

"No…," she caught herself whispering painfully. "John…"

She turned to the vanity and saw it. Handwriting bold and precise, unmistakably his, on an envelope that simply read, _Helen_ with her ring set on top. She closed her eyes to steady herself, feeling her body start to shake, knowing without opening it what would be inside. She sat back down on the bed and let the tears fall.

* * *

Will Zimmerman rounded the hallway toward Magnus' office door. This was her first full day back at work. Actually, he hoped she'd take it easy and make it a half day, but knowing Magnus, that was probably wishful thinking.

Still, he wanted to be the first to welcome her back. It had been a tough road for her, for all of them. He'd been trying to help her cope with the psychological aspect of it and the damage it had inevitably done to her relationship with Druitt. He was making progress. The two of them would get through this. They would all get through this and move on.

He started to walk through her door and almost clocked himself. It was closed. Not like Magnus. He knocked.

"Come," she said, her voice small and strained.

Will opened it, saw her and smiled. She was standing beside the window, impeccably groomed as usual. She wore a lovely lavender dress with tear drop earrings and her hair was pulled back away from her face. The bruises were barely visible, the small mark on her upper cheek healing nicely. But something was wrong, terribly wrong. Will could see it her eyes, the way she carried herself. She had the look of a person who'd just suffered a tragic loss, a death. He panicked, his heart thundering in his chest. He rushed toward her.

"Magnus? What's wrong?"

She turned to him, her eyes vacant and red. She'd been crying. She reached down and handed him an envelope she held in her hand. He recognized John's strong handwriting on the front. He glanced back up at her.

"He's gone," she said softly, and nodded to him. Will pulled the letter out and read it.

_My Dearest Helen,_

_Words cannot express my sorrow for the pain I have caused you and so many others. I know you, and I know as you read this you will argue with vehemence that I was not to blame for my crimes, that the creature that controlled me was at fault. But the truth, my dear, was that I was the conduit for the death and destruction that befell so many. My crimes are countless, as is my guilt. The blood on my hands is not such that easily washes. And now that blood has touched you._

_I love you too much to ever let it do so again. _

_Therefore, I am leaving, and am saddened beyond measure to do so. I cannot live with the possibility that my crimes would touch you again or those in your stead for whom I love and care for equally._

_You are surrounded by good people, people I trust to support and protect you. I leave you in their very capable hands._

_Helen, the time we shared together these past few months was a gift, one I thought never to receive again. One I was not deserving of but shall always treasure. I shall remember you always, for all eternity, but I shall not return. I have plagued your life too long. You deserve more. You deserve to love another._

_Please forgive me for not telling you this in person. Had I seen your face, I would not have been able to do so. I am a coward in that way._

_My love for all eternity,_

_John_

Will looked up from the letter and at Magnus. She stared out the window, her eyes lost, her beautiful, bruised face in profile. How many times had this man hurt her? She must have lost count by now.

He walked over to her and put his arms around her silently. He had no words of comfort to offer. She held him tightly in return, her body shaking with tears in his embrace. Under her blouse she wore the shattered ring, which she had tied to a chain about her neck.

It wasn't Jack that was lost to her now. It was John. And this time Helen knew it was forever.

END


End file.
